


Eyes Like These

by AEpixie7



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Foreshadowing, Friendship/Love, Gen, Ligur's Canonically Gorgeous Eyes, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Reluctant Michael, Sad, Shippy Gen, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23061556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7/pseuds/AEpixie7
Summary: Ligur and Michael meet up on a rooftop to drink and discuss the upcoming war. Feelings are pesky.
Relationships: Ligur & Michael (Good Omens), Ligur/Michael (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63





	Eyes Like These

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all didn't know, Ligur's eyes change color when his Chameleon does. Evidence-  
> https://images.app.goo.gl/ffaZb1WvYKtYHL9L9

Michael miracled herself up onto the dark roof where Ligur waited for her, grumbling as she pulled a handkerchief from her jacket and draped it delicately next to Ligur before turning to sit primly atop it. She ignored Ligur’s quiet chuckle and sighed, pulling a few pins from her hair and allowing her amber curls to fall loose over her shoulders. She groaned with relief and shook her head to further loosen the curls, leaning back on her elbows and glancing over at Ligur, who was watching her with an amused grin. His eyes were lush green at the moment, and they looked wily, somehow. 

“What?” she asked, and he shook his head. He reached behind himself and fetched a bottle of wine he'd brought, sticking a demonic claw down into the cork and pulling it free with a _pop_. 

“Nothin'. Was gonna say you look tired, but I knew you'd probably bite my head off, so… wine?” 

Michael narrowed her eyes at him, but decided not to respond to his observation. In truth, she _was_ tired, but she didn’t appreciate the sentiment from a demon that she _looked_ tired. She always kept her makeup dewy and her hair impeccably curled, so how on Earth she could _look_ tired, she hardly knew. But Ligur was almost never wrong. His strange eyes seemed to see a new perspective every time they morphed colors. 

She sighed in annoyance and snatched the wine bottle from him, taking a swig and wiping her bottom lip gingerly with a golden manicured fingernail before handing the bottle back to her companion. He accepted and also took a drink, neither of them really minding the shared mouth of the bottle. They'd shared state secrets, they could swap a little spit. 

Ligur tapped the bottle with a finger and looked out over Paris, his eyes igniting a brilliant red when they landed on Notre Dame. 

“Lookin at that church, you'd think God's compensating for somethin,” he drawled, to which Michael smacked his arm. 

“Don’t be crude. And quit hogging all the wine, you twit.” 

Ligur chuckled and handed her the wine, leaning forward and draping his arms over his knees. “Been tired myself,” he mused absently, suddenly sullen. Michael listened but didn’t speak, her attention split between her demon friend and this very attractive bottle of Merlot. 

“So much paperwork, always with the paperwork. I'd think it was all part of my punishment. Damnation, 'n all. Y'know. But you lot've got your own paperwork just the same. Seems to me it don't really matter much whether you sign in blood or gold, paperwork's always the same, innit?” 

Michael's skin prickled and she felt a chill run down her spine. She took another swig of wine. 

“Somethin’s comin, though. Can feel it. Change...” he mumbled, rubbing his upper arm and shuddering a bit. Michael handed him the bottle. She could feel it too. Something big _was_ coming. It was nearly time for the Great Plan to come to fruition. To finally decide who would triumph—good or evil. For her part, Michael hoped it would be evil. The last time there had been war in Heaven, she’d had to cut down a very dear friend. She swore she'd never do it again. 

This line of thinking grew morbid. Time to change it. 

“Three bottles of wine says that human down there belongs to Heaven,” she said, pointing at a young man walking alone down a dimly lit street, his hands tucked in his coat pockets. Ligur leaned forward to examine the man, then turned toward Michael with a smirk and a pair of luminescent gold eyes. 

“Deal.” 

Michael smiled and sat up, miracling the wallet out of a woman's purse and dropping it on the ground in the path of the man. Two celestials watched with baited breath (which smelt faintly of red wine) as the man stopped and stared down at the wallet, then glanced around the nearly empty street. He bent and picked up the wallet, opening it and examining the personal documents of the woman it belonged to. He looked up and recognized her, then looked back down at the wallet. 

“He’ll return it to her,” Michael said, taking a confident sip of wine. Ligur snorted and swiped the bottle nearly right out of her lips. 

“Nah, he'll nick it. Look at his clothes. Shoes are awful scuffed. Coat hem's ragged. Look at her purse. That's real leather, that is. What’s a few quid to her, she won’t miss it. He could sure use a little somethin extra, I bet…” 

The man had been turning the wallet in his hands in contemplation. He sighed and approached the woman, tapping her on the shoulder and offering up the wallet. 

“Bugger,” Ligur cursed, waving a hand dismissively down at the human who was now sauntering on down street in his scuffed shoes. “Humans. Never know what’s good for ‘em.” 

“It would appear they do. I believe his boss will honor him with a raise tomorrow.” 

“Oi that’s cheating!” Ligur barked, and Michael blushed. 

“I'm an angel. I don’t cheat.” 

“Yeah, like being an angel automatically makes you so innocent. I know you better than that, wank wings,” he teased, poking her arm with a finger. She smacked his hand away, smiling as she glanced up at the stars. Raphael really had outdone herself with those. 

She jumped when she felt Ligur's hand brush her shoulder. She looked down to find him gently twirling one of her curls around his finger, before draping it lovingly over her shoulder. 

“I like your hair like this, Mikey. You should wear it down more often,” he said, his eyes now a deep ocean blue and sparkling with the reflection of stars. Michael's pulse quickened beneath his fingertips, her skin tingling when he wrapped his warm hand around the back of her neck, his thumb caressing just beneath her ear. 

“Ligur…” she warned breathlessly, and he grinned, tracing the edge of her jaw as he removed his hand. 

“I know, I know. No entanglements. There's gonna be a war on,” he said, leaning back and finishing off he last of the wine. He tossed the bottle off the roof, and a woman screamed when it shattered. “Least when it's all over, one of us'll finally get some rest, eh?” 

Michael took a quivering breath in and held it. “Yes. One of us.”


End file.
